In my arms where you belong
by Bellamalfoy13
Summary: He was standing by her cell one day, watching her sleep, when she started mumbling. He leaned in and heard her murmur: "Harry. Oh Harry." Red hot furry boiled up inside of him, wanting to be released, begging to curse somebody. Mine. All seven parts of his soul screamed. The dark side has won, everyone but Hermione is dead. But will she survive now that Voldemort wants her?
1. Chapter 1

Her chestnut hair was tangled and dirty, but it still managed to gleam and look just like silk. Her filthy white clothes hung loosely on her, yet he could see her gorgeous figure well underneath. Her small hands tugged gently at a strand of hair, twirling it thoughtfully.

But the most amazing were her eyes. In all the other prisoners their eyes seemed dull, all the colour gone from them. When you looked they would stare back blankly. But her chocolate eyes were still full of fire. When anyone made eye contact, she would lift a perfect brow, as if asking what they were looking at.

She took punishment easily. With each stroke of a whip on her back, or scalding metal on her hip, she would just stand there, her face blank. Sometimes she would examine her nails, picking little pieces of earth out from underneath them. She was… extraordinary.

Not even magic would make her scream. He put her under the cruciatus curse, and when he did, he controlled all his magical energy into it. Yet, not a single sound could be drawn from her lips.

Sometimes at night he could hear her voice. She would sing, oh so softy, and he always found himself straining, desperate to hear more. Her calm melodies would sooth him.

Many times, rich came to buy Mud-Bloods, but she never went with them. Every time a buyer approached, she would roll her eyes back into her head and start humming way of pitch, one hand scratching her thigh and the other clawing at her face. The buyers would leave in a rush, and as soon as her cell door snaps closed, she would smirk.

He was not stupid. He knew she wasn't mad. He knew everything about her. He would observe her carefully, and when he did not have a chance to watch, he would re read her files. Again. And again. And again. You could call it an… obsession.

She was smart. She knew how to get the guards to bring extra food and water. She could easily get them to bring her a washcloth. She did this about once a month. He knew she did it, but made no move to stop her.

Her pale skin shone in the moonlight that the tiny window on the top of her cell let through. Her beautiful neck was exposed as her head tilted back on the mossy, cracked stone wall. How he longed to see his locket swing gently there, before resting just beside her heart.

He was standing by her cell one day, watching her sleep, when she started mumbling. He leaned in and heard her murmur: "Harry. Oh Harry. Harry."

It was the blasted boys name over and over again. Red hot furry boiled up inside of him, wanting to be released, begging to curse somebody. _Mine._ All seven parts of his soul screamed.

The door was blown of its hinges as he prowled into the room. She jumped as the door hit the wall, and her eyes widened at the sight of him, ready to kill. His red eyes were literally on fire as he advanced. She scooted back, shaking, putting her hand up. He loved that he could make her cower. He wanted to control her.

He put a hand on either side of her head, caging her in, no escape possible. He leaned in close, so that his nose, which was finally starting to reappear, was nearly touching hers.

"Potter," He murmured. "Is dead." And he crashed his lips to hers. It was by no means gentle. It was possessive. She tried to push him away, but he didn't budge. He snaked an arm around her skinny waist and hoisted her up, crushing her soft body against his hard chest.

She didn't kiss him back, and kept her mouth sealed shut. He growled, and sunk his teeth into her bottom lip. He swallowed her gasp and shot his tongue in. She whimpered and tried clawing at his face. He took both arms and pinned them to the wall.

She cried out, struggling harder as he nipped and sucked at her skin on her jaw. He traveled down to her throat and bit down. She thrashed against him, and he lifted her up, grinding his hips into hers. She tugged at his jet-black hair desperately, trying to pull his face away.

He hissed at the stinging sensation in his scalp, and bit down harder. He tightened his jaw, almost like a snake holding its prey in place. She was his prey. His precious.`

Forgetting he even had magic, he ripped the tattered shirt off her, and her breasts bounced, the rosy nipples stiffing as the cold air hit them. She shrieked, and he loved it. Finally he had made her scream.

His caught a rosy bud in his mouth and sucked hard. She moaned, still trying to push him away. His stiff member begged for attention. He pulled her shapeless pants off, and she had started beating him with her fists, tears of frustration pouring down her face. She stiffened as he ran a finger along her sex.

He drew a ragged breath and disposed of his pants without loosening the grip he had on her. He pulled out his aching manhood and lined her up, his tip just above her entrance. She shrieked, thrashing, trying hard to pull herself away. He had wanted this for so long.

"Beg me to stop," He murmured hoarsely, burying his head in he crook of her sweaty neck, inhaling deeply. She said nothing. "Beg me if you want me to stop." He hissed. She drew a ragged breath.

"I'm not begging for you." She growled, and he smirked.

"My little vixen." He groaned, and prepared to thrust. He was so close to her warmth. So close…

"Milord?" A startled voice came from the broken door, and Vodemort saw red. He spun her around so that his follower could not see what only he was allowed to see. With a wave of his hand he was dressed, and so was she. Only this time she had on a comfy green sweater that went past her knees. It was one of his own.

He spun around, murder in his heart.

"What Robinson?" He spat, and Robinson slunk back, terror etched clearly on his long, horse like face.

"The A team has returned my lord." He whimpered. Nostrils flared, the dark lord nodded.

"In the meeting room. NOW." The minor Death Eater sprang up the narrow steps. Voldemort turned back to the still shaking girl. He leaned down next to her, gripping her shoulders so that she could not escape.

"I will get you, my dear. You will be mine." He hissed in her ear, and then he stood up. He repaired the door with a wave of his hand and with another a sofa, rugs, a fireplace, quilts, and pillows appeared. "Make yourself at home until I collect you."

And he left; already planning ways he could kill Robinson so that it would be as slow and painful as possible.

 **A/N: So, who do you think the girl is? I already know who I want it to be, but Id like to know whom you guys think it is. What do you think? I feel sort of bad for poor Robinson. This chapter was fun to make. Poor girl. She was saved there, but luck can't keep Voldemort away forever. Review? It would help me get going. I'll update real soon.**

 **Bye my lovelies!**


	2. Chapter 2

Screams echoed of the tall ceiling as five twitched and turned beneath the powerful force of the cruciatus curse. Red eyes gleamed at the scene before him. Voldemort tightened his grip on the elder wand and directed more energy into the unforgivable curse. The screams grew louder.

Many of his followers were cringing as their eardrums rang, and Narcissa Malfoy was crying in the corner, watching terrified as her son and husband was tortured. Voldemort hated it when people cried. They were weak.

"Tell me you insolent fools, how you couldn't manage to steal a book. ONE BOOK!" Voldemort nearly had foam dripping out of the corners of his mouth. His entire body was shaking, and many dressed in black winced as the dark magic radiating of their master burnt their skin.

Even Nagini was staying away, only her head poking out from behind the throne. She could sense the anger in her master, and she knew it wasn't just because of the book. Something had happened earlier.

Voldemort collapsed into his throne, releasing the spell and resting his head in his free hand. The screams stopped, and Narcissa ran forwards. With a lazy flick of the wand she was thrown back, hitting the wall with a sick crunch.

"Do not help them." He hissed. "Nobody heals them. Understood?" Narcissa nodded, crystal tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks.

"Do you know how important that book is?" Silence. "DO YOU?" The five on the ground spluttered, crawling to their knees in a straight line, each shaking, each with their heads bent. Voldemort slashed his wand at them one by one, and with each stroke thin red lines appeared in already bruising skin.

"Get out of sight. All of you." The five on the floor tried moving. They were going to slow. "Get them out of here. NOW." Narcissa ran forwards and supported her son and four others hurried forwards to help the remaining.

Narcissa was almost out the door when Voldemort stopped her. "Leave the boy." She whimpered but carefully let go of Draco, who stumbled. She turned and ran out the door, and everyone followed until only Draco and Voldemort was left in the room.

"Draco. Come here." The blond started forwards, limping badly. When he reached Voldemort, he grasped the boy's chin and Draco gasped. "You know Potter's best friend yes? The girl with the brown hair." Draco nodded desperately, wanting to please his master.

"Of course my lord. Every one knows that Mud-Blood. She's so big headed I'm surprised she fits through doors." He said as strongly as he could, thinking this was what Voldemort wanted to hear. Red eyes flashed and Draco was thrown back onto the floor. He cried out as he came in contact with the hard stone.

"Idiot boy." He hissed. "I want her name. What is it?" Draco choked up blood.

"G-granger milord." He spluttered.

"First name you fool."

"H-Hermione my lord."

" _Hermione."_ Voldemort hissed in parseltongue, and Nagini raised her head. She slithered up the armchair and rested her scaly head on his shoulders. He looked at Draco.

"Get lost." Draco did not need telling twice. He went as fast as he could. Voldemort stroked Nagini's head with two fingers.

" _Hermione. Is ssshe your Preciousss?"_ Nagini asked, her forked tongue flickering against a pale cheek. Voldemort studied his familiar.

" _I don't know Nagini. I want her to be though. She will be."_ He replied. Nagini seemed to have excitement shining in her yellow eyes.

" _Fun. Hatchlingsss to play with."_ She hissed thoughtfully. Voldemort chuckled.

" _Don't get too ahead of yourself old girl."_ Nagini wrapped herself around her master's waist and said no more.

XXX

Voldemort did not want to wait. He nearly ran down to the dungeons, his member painfully hard.

Hermione, his Hermione, was sitting in front of the fire when he walked in. She jumped when she heard him and backed into a wall.

"Stay away from me." She said. It was a very low warning tone. Voldemorts inner animal roared in desperation to be near.

He took a step forwards, and just as he did, Hermione let out a gasp and pressed herself hard into the wall, the jagged rock slicing her hands.

" _Isss that your Preciousss master?"_ Nagini asked, poking her head around the door. Voldemort wanted to laugh at the look on his girls face. He nodded, and Nagini raised her head, examining the brown haired witch.

She slithered forwards, but as soon as she was close enough, Hermione lashed out, almost like a snake herself, and her fist collided with Nagini's nose, the only part of Nagini that actually hurt when hit. Hermione flew back to the wall.

Nagini reared back, wrinkling her aching nostrils. She turned her head and looked at Voldemort, who had amusement written all over his face.

" _Ouch."_ Nagini retorted. _"Sshe's feisssty massster."_ Yellow eyes gleamed. _"Nagini approves."_ At this Voldemort let loose a bark of laughter. Hermione looked ready to faint.

In English, Voldemort said: "Nagini, I think its best you go." The great snake understood exactly what he said, and she tuned around and nodded at Hermione before all twelve feet of the giant snake disappeared out the door.

Hermione gulped. Voldemort turned and advanced.

"Stay away!" Hermione growled again. Voldemort did not. He sprang forwards, pinning her to the wall and pressed his lips firmly to hers.

"Lets continue, shall we?" He muttered against her lips and forced his tongue inside her mouth. She bit down hard and Voldemort hissed. He pulled away and licked up her jaw, leaving a trail of red sticky blood. Hermione shook her head hard.

"Oh yes, darling." He gripped her tightly and appeared a second later in his bedchambers. He pushed her down on the king sized bed and waved his hand. Both their clothes disappeared.

"NO!" Hermione screamed, kicking and flailing her arms. Voldemort pinned both arms above her head with one hand, the other running up and down her sides and breasts. She inhaled sharply as his hand ghosted over a pink nipple.

"No!" She moaned, trying to buck him off. Her sex hit his hard member and she froze when Voldemort groaned.

"Carful darling. I'm so close to skip all the preparing and just fuck you as hard as I can." She paled and tried shrinking into the silk comforter.

Voldemort kissed her throat and trailed kisses up her bloody jaw and down to her breasts. He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin. She could feel her body betray her.

"No! I don't want you!" She said weakly.

"That's not what your body says." Voldemort was lost in bliss. She was all wet, and when he pulled his fingers away, they were sticky. He groaned and a lined his aching member with her opening. She cried out as he gave one hard thrust. Voldemort felt his dick break through a barrier. He stopped, his manhood already buried to the hilt in her tight warm body.

"You were a virgin." He moaned. No one else had sullied what was his. He was her first. She truly was his. She had tears streaming down her angelic face, and he leaned across her to wipe them away. She had stopped fighting. She just lay there, unresponsive. However she looked up in alarm when she felt a warm tickling sensation in her lower abdomen.

"What did you do?" She asked hoarsely.

"A contraceptive charm. Don't want you to get pregnant." Hermione fell back in relief, but stayed tense. Voldemort started thrusting. It was not as fast as he would have wanted, but he took care of what was his after all.

She didn't move through out the entire process, and the thought that struggling would not have helped had obviously dawned on her.

Voldemort had never taken care to prepare anyone else before. He just thrust, not giving a damn about the other, and only focusing on himself. But it was different with Hermione. She was different.

Voldemort suddenly tensed, and Hermione's eyes grew wide as the dark lord shot his seed deep inside of her. She hated the feeling of warmth spreading across her womb.

He pulled out of her, and collapsed besides her, still shaking. She tried to move away, but Voldemort reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, spooning her. He never slept with a person after sex. This was a first.

Voldemort's man hood was pressed against Hermione's lower back, and as she struggled she hit it. Voldemort hissed.

"You'll stop that unless you want another go." He growled, and the girl instantly stilled.

"I hate you." She hissed, and a smirk grew on the handsome face, which was buried in her locks.

 **A/N: This chapter kind of sucked. It'll get better though, I promise. Can you guys review some ideas? I'm open for anything. I think I've got writers block. (NOOOOOOOOOOO) Oh well. Hope you enjoyed.**

 **REVIEWWWWWW**

 **XXX Bye my lovelies**


End file.
